Feels Like Home
by sparklekris39
Summary: Olivia Hanover thought she could fight on the fringes of the war between angels and demons. Little did she know an enormous secret about her life was about to unveil itself - thanks to none other than two Winchesters and a winged warrior.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: Obviously (and unfortunately) I don't own anyone but Olivia and her scatterbrained father – Cas, Sam and Dean all belong to the talented Eric Kripke. This story is AU, so don't get all feisty about my departure from canon.

Oh… and will trade baked goods for reviews. Pie, anyone?

"There's something in your eyes, that makes me wanna lose myself,

Makes me wanna lose myself in your arms.

There's something in your voice, makes my heart beat fast…

Hope this feeling lasts for the rest of my life.

If you knew how lonely my life has been,

And how long I've been so alone,

And if you knew how I wanted someone to come along,

And change my life the way you've done…

It feels like home to me, it feels like home to me;

It feels like I'm all the way back where I come from."

-Chantal Kreviazuk

The doorbell chimes startled me away from my reading; I had been thoroughly engrossed in picking through old newspaper articles, trying to help my father with a lead. "Dad!" I yelled, pushing my long, curly brown hair out of my eyes and sighing. "Dad. Door!" I tapped my bare foot against the bottom of my purple computer chair, waiting for a response.

The chimes wafted through our small two-story house again, echoing off the walls insistently. "Dad!" I tried once more, and got no response. I quickly logged off the laptop I was seated in front of in my small office and got to my feet, stretching before hurrying down the dim lit hallway and down the stairs to the main foyer of the house. It was almost evening, and my dad had evidently forgotten to turn on any lights in the house before he ventured out to do whatever it was he was doing. I jumped the last two steps and stubbed my toe on the cast-iron umbrella holder by the door. I muffled a shriek of pain and hopped up and down, pulling the front door open.

"Can I help you?" I asked, instantly wishing I was not wearing torn jeans and a black tank top that – although made my cleavage look outstanding – was definitely worse for the wear. It wasn't so much black as it was… light black. Gray?

I wished this because standing in front of me were three extremely good-looking men. I studied them carefully, ready to slam the door shut in a split second if anything seemed off. One was tall and lanky; he had longish brown hair that framed a baby face and green eyes. The other one, whose finger was poised to ring the doorbell again, was shorter but had a face that screamed mischief. His green eyes sparkled as he grinned widely at me, checking me out quickly before speaking.

"Hi. We're looking for Mike Hanover?" he said, and I arched an eyebrow at him. His grin faltered a bit but he shoved his hands in the pockets of his worn leather jacket and nodded at me importantly.

"Why?" I asked bluntly. I hated seeming rude, but when your family's in the business of hunting, there's often no time for formalities. I had been on the other end of a demon attack more than once, and let's just say that meeting new people wasn't one of my favorite pastimes.

It was then that the third man stepped forward, and I was a bit taken aback by his intense blue stare. He was of medium height and build, and was wearing a tan trench coat over a button down and loosened blue tie. "We're seeking Michael Hanover for a matter of utmost importance. Is he here?" His voice was low and a bit gruff, and I bit my lip, trying to reign in the slight flutter I felt in my stomach.

"What's this matter of utmost importance?" I asked, staring the three of them down. "What do you want with Mike Hanover?" I slowly slid one foot behind the door to give me extra leverage if I had to slam it shut. I had a revolver loaded with rock salt in the small chest of drawers in the foyer, as well as a vial of holy water resting on the windowsill in a pretty decorative bottle, but I would never reach them if someone got into the house first.

"Are you his daughter?" The tall guy asked, taking a hesitant step forward. "Olivia?" I was taken aback that he knew my name, but masked it in a steely look that didn't betray my surprise. I narrowed my gray eyes at him.

"You know my name, now tell me yours," I said shortly. "Look, my dad isn't even here. But when he comes back he'll want to know what this was about, so you can spill, or you can get off my doorstep."

"Where are your manners?" the short guy asked, but he had a twinkle in his eyes and he smirked at me. I shifted my weight and reached to flick on the porch light, casting an orange glow over them.

"Probably the same place as your communication skills," I retorted. To my surprise, he laughed. "Seriously. Tell me what you want, or you can leave. It's cold out." I shivered a bit, the autumn chill seeping through my thin tank top.

"We do apologize," the man with blue eyes said sincerely, and I shifted my gaze back to him. He was astonishingly handsome, and an aura of calm seemed to radiate off of him. His eyes were a blue that I had never encountered before and it seemed as though you could get lost in them if you looked for too long. "We're looking for Mike Hanover regarding a matter in the demon and angel war. We believe he can be of assistance."

"Way to lay it all out there, Cas," the tall guy muttered, annoyance flashing across his face. The neighbor across the street, Mrs. Dewitt, was staring at us from her lawn, where the nosy old bat was pretending to rake leaves. Unfortunately for her, leaves hadn't even dropped yet and still burned red and orange in the trees. I waved pointedly at her and she dropped her eyes, fussing around with her rake. I returned my attention to the man apparently named Cas.

I was thrown by his honesty, but sucked in air through my nose and persevered. "And what are your names?" I pressed, staring at him. His eyes met mine and never faltered as he replied.

"I am Castiel," he said. "This is Sam Winchester, and Dean Winchester." He motioned to the two men behind him, but never took his eyes off of my face. I felt my own eyes widen as I recognized the names and my heart skipped a beat.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" I asked incredulously. "Like, John Winchester's sons? The ones who unlocked the devil's gate and have been mopping up the mess since?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them and I silently cursed myself; the two Winchesters shifted uncomfortably on the door stoop.

"Um. Yeah, that's us," Sam replied awkwardly. I immediately stepped back and swung the door all the way open.


	2. Chapter 2

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" I asked incredulously. "Like, John Winchester's sons? The ones who unlocked the devil's gate and have been mopping up the mess since?" The words tumbled out before I could stop them and I silently cursed myself; the two Winchesters shifted uncomfortably on the door stoop.

"Um. Yeah, that's us," Sam replied awkwardly. I immediately stepped back and swung the door all the way open.

"Come in, right now," I demanded. The three men stepped in and glanced around, taking in their surroundings. "I'm sorry. You know how it is – when you're around hunters your whole life, meeting strangers is a little daunting." I shut the door behind them, locking it carefully and flicking on the overhead light. "Here, come into the kitchen. My dad went to run an errand but he should be back soon." I led the way back to the kitchen, where I flipped on some more lights. Dean and Sam settled onto the old pine barstools around the island, but Cas remained standing, studying me as I moved around, pulling beers out of the fridge.

"Here," I said, passing them around. Dean took his appreciatively and drank half of it off immediately. "So yes, I'm Olivia. And I know who you two are –" I motioned to Sam and Dean – "but I'm not familiar with you, Castiel." I raised my eyebrows at him and he nodded solemnly at me before responding.

"I'm an angel of the Lord," he said in his gruff voice, and my eyes widened to the size of saucers. "I was sent here to guide Dean Winchester and win the war against hell." I stared at all three of them for a moment before cracking my beer open and taking a large gulp.

"Um." I managed, and took another sip. Dean and Sam laughed.

"It's true," Dean affirmed, swigging off of his beer. "Cas pulled me out of hell, brought me back to Earth on the big guy's orders." At that remark, something familiar clicked in my brain and I turned back to Castiel.

"I remember hearing about that," I said steadily, glancing at Dean. "I just never knew who did it. It's nice to meet you," I said to Castiel, who nodded at me once more. I stuck out my hand automatically – my dad had instilled the firm handshake in my since I was a child. Castiel hesitantly offered his as well and as soon as our hands gripped, I felt a surge of warmth. I started a bit, but neither one of us released our grip. I noticed something shift in his blue eyes and it wasn't until Dean sniggered that I dropped my hand, blushing a bit.

I cleared my throat. "Anyway. What brings you to Fairview?" I pulled another cold beer out of the fridge for Dean and slid it to him across the white tiled countertop. "My dad's been a little off the grid lately, mostly working cases around here."

"We know," Sam replied. "But we need his help. We need to talk to him about a few things… like Cas said. To do with the war. Have you two been following everything?" He sipped his beer, his green eyes watching me expectantly.

I nodded. "That's primarily what I do," I said, sitting down on a barstool next to where Castiel stood. "I research, find leads, help my dad however I can. I've been keeping tabs on everything through the other hunters."

"How old are you?" Dean asked in what I assume he thought was a suave voice, raising his eyebrows at me and smiling widely. "You don't look a day over 18." I snorted and Sam laughed, setting his beer down with a clunk.

"I'm 28," I replied dryly. "And you must be the one who does the talking when you're trying to wheedle information out of people… a day over 18. Jesus. Hey, how did you find us anyway?" Sam was still laughing and to his credit, Dean blushed a little before replying.

"Bobby Singer," he said, grinning. "He said you're like a daughter to him. He gave us your address and sent us on our way." I smiled happily, drumming my bare feet on the barstool rung.

"How's Bobby doing?" I asked eagerly. "I haven't heard from him in a few months. He still living in that salvage yard?" Dean nodded. "Bobby taught me how to throw a right hook. No one ever picked on me again after that summer for having weird parents." We all laughed and I snuck a glance at Castiel without really knowing why. He was smiling slightly, but didn't join in the laughter.

Suddenly, the back door banged open and my dad charged in, his gray hair sticking up wildly from being tossed around in the wind. I knew he had ridden home with the top down on his restored convertible. "Olivia! Whose car is that in the driveway? Did you let someone in?" He stopped dead in his tracks when he spotted the Winchesters. "Dean? Sam? What the hell are you doing here?" Without any hesitation he hurried over and pulled them both into a hug, cracking their heads together. I smirked.

"And this is?" my dad finally noticed Castiel when he had released the boys, who were both wincing and rubbing their foreheads gingerly. He approached Castiel a bit warily, but put his hand out in greeting.

"That's Castiel," Dean replied. "He's an angel, Mike. He's here to help. And we need to talk to you, now. It's important." He gave my dad a look and to my utter surprise, my dad's face paled considerably. I stood and collected the now-empty beer bottles, dropping them into the trash under the sink.

"Let's go into my study," my dad said abruptly. "Liv, can you pull something together to eat? I'm sure these boys are hungry. Order pizza if there's no groceries." He distractedly dropped a kiss on my forehead as he walked by, straightening his sweater as he led the way out of the room. I heard them all clomping up the stairs and shook my head in bewilderment.


	3. Chapter 3

I had the ingredients for lasagna in the fridge and quickly put it together, sticking it in the oven and flicking on the timer. After making a tossed salad and procuring some garlic bread from the depths of the freezer, I turned on more lights downstairs and lit a few candles to make the house seem homier. Ever since my mom had died four years ago, it felt emptier than ever.

Climbing the stairs, I heard muffled voices talking behind the double doors to my dad's office but didn't bother trying to snoop. I figured he would tell me everything later, after the Winchesters and Castiel had left. I slipped into my bedroom and pulled on a clean orange sweater, running a brush through my shiny curls and touching up my makeup a bit. Bored after a few minutes of flipping through a magazine, I went into my office and grabbed my laptop before making my way back downstairs.

I was seated at the counter, researching rumors of a haunting three towns over when I heard the doors to my dad's office slide open and feet coming down the stairs again. I looked up expectantly to see them all enter the kitchen, Dean sniffing the air hopefully. My dad was even paler than when he had left and I looked at him concernedly as I took the lasagna out of the oven.

"Are you ok?" I murmured, standing next to him at the fridge as he pulled out an assortment of salad dressings. His eyes were watery behind his glasses.

"I'm fine, honey," he replied, patting my arm. "Let's eat, I'm starving." I had set the table for all of us in the breakfast nook and set the lasagna in the center, along with the salad. I poured drinks quickly and sat down next to my dad and as it happened, Castiel. "Thank you, Olivia. This looks delicious."

"Totally," Dean mumbled around a mouthful of garlic bread; Sam rolled his eyes disgustedly and then smiled at me. Castiel didn't eat, which didn't surprise me. Last time I checked angels of the Lord weren't shoveling down Italian food at a rapid rate.

Dinner conversation was light; we talked about Bobby, a few of my dad's latest cases, and the newest Batman movie. Castiel and I caught each other's gaze a few times and it made my heart leap into my throat as I chastised myself for acting like a stupid teenager. He smiled slightly each time, never betraying too much emotion.

"Is there dessert?" my dad asked hopefully, leaning back and rubbing his stomach. He hadn't talked as much as normal during the meal, and I felt a seed of worry beginning to take root in the pit of my stomach. I nodded, standing and grabbing a few plates. Castiel stood as well, politely helping me collect dishes.

"There's that apple pie I made two days ago and we never ate," I said, crossing the kitchen quickly and dumping plates into the sink." Dean let out a whimper of happiness from where he was about to slip into a food coma and I giggled. "You don't have to help with dishes," I said kindly to Castiel as he stood next to me at the sink.

"It's no trouble," he responded, his blue eyes again searching my face. I felt myself go a bit pink and plunged my hands into the soapy water, searching for a sponge to wipe crumbs off of the table. Castiel slipped a few plates into the water and our hands brushed; my face turned even pinker and I bit my lip. What was _wrong _with me? I had plenty of boyfriends growing up; my last relationship had ended a year ago when I had been cheated on, and I had focused on work since then. However, none of them had ever affected me like this. I didn't even _know_ Castiel.

I handed him the sponge and then pulled the apple pie out of the oven, where I had set it on low to warm up. Dishing it up with vanilla ice cream, I carried the bowls back to the table and sat down.

"Oh, Olivia. Will you marry me?" Dean asked, his face rapturous as he shoveled pie into his mouth. "You're an angel." At this, my father dropped his gaze to his ice cream and an expression of profound sadness swept over his face. I swallowed hard.

"Dean loves pie," Sam explained dryly, rolling his eyes. "You're his new favorite person. I don't think he was joking about the whole marriage thing." Dean nodded emphatically at me, grinning widely, and I laughed in spite of myself.

When we had finished, I stood to grab the dishes again, but my father put a hand on my forearm. "Sit, Liv," he said, a hint of sadness in his voice. "We need to talk." I sat down warily, my brow knitting into confusion. "It's important."

I bit my lip, hard. "OK, what is it?" I asked. A heavy silence descended upon the room and everyone was avoiding my eyes. "What? What is this all about, what's _wrong_, dad?" I felt panic beginning to hook its claws into me and fought it, trying to take deep breaths.

"Olivia, you are a nephilim," Castiel said matter-of-factly, and my jaw dropped as I slowly turned to face him. "Your father was a powerful angel who spent many years on earth, observing the human race."

I pushed back in my seat, staring at him like he was crazy. "What are you _talking_ about?" I demanded. "A nephilim, like a half-angel?" I shook my head violently. "That makes _no_ sense, none whatsoever. I'm normal. I think I'd know if I had wings sprouting out of my shoulder blades." Dean snorted and Sam elbowed him. "You're wrong." I turned to my father, who was gazing sadly at me. "Dad?"

My dad put a hand on mine and gently pulled my chair closer to the table with his foot. "Dad, tell me this isn't true!" I demanded, my hands shaking a bit. I couldn't fathom what was happening and started to feel nauseous.

"I'm sorry," my dad said quietly. His gray eyes, so similar to mine in color, were drowning in sadness. "It is true. You have to understand, Olivia – your mother didn't know. He was already gone and I was around by the time she figured out you were on the way, but it was the greatest blessing we could have hoped for when you did. Castiel is telling the truth." I gazed at him, numb with shock, before exploding.

"And did you think maybe it might be beneficial to mention this to me at some point?" I shouted, pushing his hand off of mine. "What does this mean, anyway? How come I didn't know?"

"When you were born, your father – upon Heaven's request – endowed you with a mental barrier," Castiel explained in his low, raspy voice. "It was intended to keep you safe, and it effectively prevented you from realizing your true form. Your powers were numbed, so you were unaware you possessed them." He gazed evenly at me and I shook my head again.

"Why now, then?" I demanded angrily. "Why tell me at all? Why not just let me live my life without ever knowing?" I felt hot tears starting to build up in the back of my eyes.

"There's a war going on," Castiel continued. "Nephilims are extremely rare; you're the only one in existence at this particular time. Whichever side… comes into possession of you – heaven or hell – will have a great deal of extra power." I took a deep breath

"What does that mean?" I asked darkly, already getting the feeling that it meant something extremely unpleasant. Goosebumps were pimpling up along my arms and legs, even though it was warm in the kitchen. My father was steadfastly avoiding my gaze and staring into his uneaten apple pie.

"It means that you're in trouble," Sam cut in evenly. "I'm sorry to put it that way, Olivia. But you _will_ be able to hear angels talk, which means you're an asset to the demons. You're a huge source of power, which makes you even more valuable. They'll hunt and torture you for information, and then imprison you to help them win." He kept his eyes on me, his gaze apologetic. "I'm sorry."


	4. Chapter 4

**People! Thanks for reading… and I love reviews like Crowley loves Scotch, so leave some feedback for me! **

I felt a surge of fear and swallowed hard again. "What… what can I do?" I stammered out, my heart pounding in my chest. "If demons are after me, then what can we do, dad?" I turned to him, seeking solidarity, and he shook his head. His eyes were welling behind his glasses now. "Dad!"

"We can keep you safe," Castiel said, and placed a hand tentatively on my arm. I glanced at him and saw that his eyes were unsure of his actions. His hesitance was strange, but I brushed the thought aside as thoughts of demons hunting me clouded my mind. "I've been given orders to keep you as my charge. Dean, Sam and I can protect you, but you'll have to come with us. It's not safe here anymore."

I gulped, tears beginning to form in the backs of my eyes. "I just… I can't," I managed, the words spilling out jerkily. I pulled back from the table and ran out of the kitchen; I could hear my father calling after me but ignored him. Slipping my feet into the Uggs I always left by the back door, I fled out into the heavily wooded backyard, taking refuge under my favorite oak tree. The sun was slipping under the horizon, a huge orange ball of light, and the sky was a deep purple dotted with splashes of pink and gold. I pulled my knees to my chest and tried to breathe, refusing to cry.

"May I sit with you?" A voice said solemnly a few minutes later. I jumped, and looked up to see Castiel gazing seriously at me. I nodded, motioning for him to go ahead, and directed my eyes back to the horizon. "I'm sorry this is such a shock for you," he said, and it was then that I noticed his voice was rather devoid of emotion. It wasn't that he was being unkind. It was just that he was… different. I knew that angels didn't have much experience interacting with humans, and that was probably why Castiel seemed so reserved. "But I can promise you, we will protect you if you choose to come with us."

"So what am I supposed to do, just leave everything?" I demanded almost angrily, yanking pieces of grass out of the ground and nervously shredding them between my fingers. "My friends, my work? Just pack up and go?"

"Yes," Castiel replied simply, and it was then that the gravity of the situation hit me. Demons were hunting me, and that put both my father and me in serious danger. "You'll be safe with us."

"I can't believe this," I whispered, pulling more grass out of the ground. "I just want to have a normal life." I thought of my mother, who had never let on to me about her who I really was, or the fact that my father wasn't really my father. She had been killed by a demon four years ago. Even though she was a hunter too, she was no match for the demon, who we soon found out to be named Alastair. My father and I had been out on a case, and I knew neither one of us had forgiven ourselves for being gone.

"You'll be able to exist relatively similarly to how you live now," Castiel said quietly, obviously trying to reassure me. "Removing the mental barrier would be extremely painful. It is our best hope to leave it in place and simply keep you safe." I was silent, trying to absorb everything, and stared off into the now velvety blue sky. "Let's go inside," Castiel suggested a few minutes later, and offered me a hand.

I took it and he helped me to my feet. We crossed the yard in silence, but when we stepped inside the back door I paused; I shut my eyes for a second and then took a deep breath, walking back into the kitchen.

My dad immediately stood from the table, his expression nervous. "Olivia," he said, and motioned for me to sit down again. Dean was shoveling a second piece of pie into his mouth and grinned guiltily at me, and I managed a small smile for him. I plopped down into a chair and Castiel sat down next to me. "We need to talk logistics, here, boys," my dad said, clearing his throat. Sam nodded fiercely, his eyes burning.

"We have a safe place for you, Olivia," Castiel said, his voice ever serious. "It's a cabin and rather rudimentary, but will suffice until we find out more. We need to go as soon as possible. Tonight." I choked on the water I had been sipping in an effort to calm down. "I am sorry. I know it's sudden. But it is non-negotiable." I turned pleading eyes on my father.

"I'll follow you in a few days," he said reassuringly, taking my hand into his. "Our main priority is getting you out of here, now. I have to wrap a few things up and then I'll join you as soon as possible." I hesitated, and then nodded resignedly. What else could I do? "You should go pack, Liv."

"It's cold at the cabin," Sam said helpfully, climbing to his feet. "You should bring lots of warm clothes." I nodded again and silently left the room, feeling like my head was going to explode as I climbed the stairs to my bedroom.

I was numb. I packed for thirty minutes, slinging clothes, books and toiletries into a suitcase. I carefully packed up my laptop, although I knew I had little hope of wifi where I was headed. As I pulled my warmest coat out of my closet and stuffed it into the top of my bag, there was a knock at my door. "Liv?" my dad called nervously. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," I replied, struggling to zip the suitcase shut. It finally gave and I sighed in relief. "I'm done packing." I turned to face him, perching stiffly on the end of my bed.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner," my dad said somewhat desperately, pacing back and forth. "I guess I was hoping... hoping that I would never have to. I know this changes who I am to you but I've always, always considered myself to be your real father. And this will all work out. The Winchesters and Castiel – we really couldn't ask for more." I nodded silently. "This will all work out and then we'll go back to our normal lives."

I nodded at him again, even though I didn't believe a word he was saying. "I… I just wish you had told me," I said in a trembling voice. "A nephilim… God. How could you keep that from me for so long?"

"Your mother and I agreed upon it," he said, desperation creeping into his voice. "We wanted to keep you safe. We never imagined a war would break out and you'd become a commodity, Olivia. We love you. That's why." I studied him. He looked so much older… the past few years had taken a toll on him. He was thinner and his hair was completely grey, and his face had taken on a haggard look recently.

"Ok," I said softly. "And you're still my dad, stupid." He grinned at me weakly and quickly crossed the room, pulling me into a hug.

"Sorry to interrupt," Dean said, poking his head in the door and grinning his trademark devilish grin. "We've got to get moving. Cas is getting anxious." I stood from where I was sitting on the bed and pulled on boots again; my dad picked up my suitcase and led the way downstairs, where Castiel and Sam were standing by the door and talking quietly.

Sam took my suitcase from my dad and loped out to the car with it. I stuck my head out to momentarily admire the shiny black '67 Impala parked in our drive, but then the situation at hand came flooding back and I felt tears spring to my eyes again. "We should get going," Dean said, and stepped out the door, pulling Castiel with him. "Mike, call us every few hours. You have all three of our numbers." My dad nodded at him and then turned to me.

"Dad," I implored once more, and a hot tear slid down my cheek. He shook his head at me sternly, although I could see in his eyes that he didn't mean it. He pulled my jacket tighter around me, and his hands were trembling.

"I'll see you in a few days. You listen to these boys, OK? Do what they say and stay safe." His eyes clouded over and he pulled me into an extremely tight hug, letting me go a few moments later. "Go, Olivia. I love you and I'll talk to you in a few hours."

I stumbled blindly out to the car, tears blurring my vision, and dazedly climbed into the leather back seat next to Castiel. I was in disbelief that this was happening and as I turned to glance at our cozy, well-lit house once more, had to choke down a sob. Tears began to slide faster and faster down my cheeks and I swiped helplessly at them.

"It will be alright," Castiel said quietly to me, handing me a handkerchief. He touched my hand.

"Thanks," I whispered, and pulled my knees to my chest again, staring out into the dark.


	5. Chapter 5

**Reviews are always welcome, lovelies! Thanks for reading. **

It seemed like we were in the car forever. The Winchesters took turns driving, and Dean did his best to make me laugh as the car sliced through the darkness. Sam, on the other hand, explained more details of the battle between the angels and demons, Lillith, and the impending arrival of Lucifer.

"So what exactly are you doing to stop the Apocalypse?" I asked tiredly, rubbing a hand over my eyes. The conversation was making my anxiety level rise considerably. I generally was a calm person, but this particular topic – in light of the evening's revelations – was making me feel ill. Even though I had diligently followed the war through interactions with other hunters, they had severely underestimated just how bad things were.

"We have to stop Lillith from breaking the 66 seals to release Lucifer," Castiel replied simply. "There are 666 to choose from and we have no idea which she'll decide to break. But we must stop her. Over half have been broken already." I blanched, turning my attention out the window to the headlights slicing through the darkness.

We stopped for breakfast at a small, nearly empty diner the next morning, but I merely picked at my food, my appetite gone. "You should eat," Castiel said firmly from his spot next to me, where he was swirling a glass of orange juice. "You'll need strength." His blue eyes bored into me and I took a bite of eggs to appease him. He smiled tentatively at me and I felt Dean staring at us as he inhaled his pancakes. I ignored him, trying not to blush.

"Alright," Sam said, draining the last of his coffee and setting down the cup on the sticky table. "We're a while out still, but we should be there before dark. Let's get moving. I'll pay the bill." Dean nodded at him, now shoveling my eggs into his mouth, much to Castiel's disapproval. Sam wandered off to the counter, check in hand, and our waitress meandered back to our table.

"Ya'll need anything else?" she drawled through bright pink lips. Her frizzy red hair was piled into a bun on top of her head, and her uniform was at least three sizes too small. I shook my head politely and gulped some ice water. Glancing over at Sam, I noticed that we were the last ones left in the diner, and I felt a pang of sourceless unease. I felt like the line cooks were all staring at us, and a small shiver ran up my spine.

"I think we're good," Dean said, smiling goofily at her. "Thanks, Britt," he read off of her nametag, and it was then that I felt a subtle shift in the air. My eyes darted back to the waitress, who was still hovering over us. Her fingers began to scrabble over the tabletop as she stared blankly at us and I pulled away in alarm, backing into Castiel inadvertently as I reached into my bag for my flask of holy water.

"Oh, shit," Dean exploded, trying to leap to his feet. Britt shoved him down again effortlessly and his head hit the windowsill, hard. She turned her attention to me, leering at me as her eyes turned completely black. I saw Sam running towards us out of the corner of my eye, but she flicked her hand and sent him flying into a table, never taking her eyes off of me.

"Remember me?" she hissed, and her face distorted horribly as she laughed. "I used your meat a few years back, and your daddy sent me back downstairs. Too bad for you I found my way back up. You're much more valuable now, little Livvy." She snatched a glass and smashed it on the table. "But that doesn't mean I can't have some fun with you in the meantime." She lunged at me with the thick shard of glass in her hand and suddenly, I felt myself being bodily lifted.

Before I could comprehend what was happening, Castiel had picked me up me from my seat and thrust me behind him; he was now grappling with the demon. As I watched, he grabbed its face and suddenly, white light began to stream out its eyes and mouth. Then Britt's body thumped lifelessly to the floor. I let out a shaky breath, covering my mouth with my hands.

Dean groaned from where he was slumped. "Neat party trick, huh, Liv? Thanks Cas." He sat up and his face went pale. "Time to go, kids." I looked to where he was staring and saw the line cooks. All of their eyes were completely black, and they were starting to file out of the kitchen. Castiel grabbed my hand and pulled; I literally flew into the air but landed adeptly on my feet. I took off running after him and Dean, Sam hot on our heels.

Suddenly, something snatched my shirt from behind and yanked with incredible force. I fell backwards with a shriek and felt hot breath on my face; a demon who was possessing an older Hispanic man was standing over me, laughing maniacally as I lay pinned flat on my back. I unscrewed the flask I was clutching and flung holy water at his face. He shrieked and hurtled away, but two others stepped into his place.

"Step away from her," Castiel ordered, and I saw that he, Dean and Sam were now surrounded by at least six other demons. "Now, demon." The demon merely laughed again and I saw a flash of silver in Sam's hand. He swiped a blade hard across the demon next to him and fire shot out of its eyes before it came howling smokily out of its body, sinking back down to the depths of hell. Chaos erupted.

I kicked my feet under me and jumped to my feet while the demons who were hovering over me were distracted, but to no avail – I felt a piercing pain, crumbled, and saw another waitress waving a now-bloody shard of glass at me. I glanced down and saw the deep gash in my side. Blood was pooling underneath me on the linoleum floor. I heard Dean yelling and then the shard of glass flashed down at me again.

I threw my arms up and tried to roll out of the way, but pain screamed through my side and the glass sunk into my shoulder, just below my clavicle. Another demon stomped on my arm and I felt the bones crack. This time I shrieked in pain and kicked out as hard as I could, knocking the waitress back into a chair. She stumbled and fell and Castiel grabbed her; my vision swam as I saw the familiar white light.

"Olivia," Castiel said concernedly, swooping down to me. "Olivia, look at me." Blurrily I tried to focus on him, but felt nauseous and dizzy. "Dean, we have to leave now. I have to heal her." He picked me up as if I were weightless and carried me out of the diner. Dimly I could hear Sam and Dean talking to me, but it was as if they were a million miles away.

I felt Castiel sliding me into the backseat and climbing in next to me; Dean started the Impala and tore out of the lot with screaming tires. Sam turned so he was kneeling on the front seat, facing us. "Damnit!" Dean was shouting, weaving in and out of early morning traffic and hitting the steering wheel with a fist. "Olivia, are you alright?"

"I'm getting blood all over your car," I mumbled dazedly. Sam laughed but his expression quickly turned serious again as Castiel peeled up my shirt.

"God, Cas, that's deep," he said, alarm seeping into his voice as he took in the wound. I was starting to see black spots in front of my eyes and gasped for breath, panicking. I clutched onto Castiel's coat and felt his hands smoothing back my hair.

"Olivia," he said soothingly. "I'm going to help you, you're going to be fine." I felt his hands on my face and warmth surged through me; then everything went dark.


	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews, guys. I love reading them… keep 'em coming! **

When I woke up, I was lying on a lumpy old plaid couch. A rather musty-smelling green blanket had been pulled over me and a pillow was under my head; I gazed blearily around me. I was definitely in the cabin the Winchesters had told us about. Log walls surrounded me, and the cabin was furnished with an old wooden table, a few roughly hewn chairs, and the lumpy couch I was sleeping on. An old refrigerator hummed in the corner and a small rusty stove sat next to it. Watery daylight fought its way into the room through a few small windows.

There was a small bedroom off of the main room, and I twisted my head peer in the door. The room housed an old full-sized bed, piled high with blankets, and a small dresser, but other than that was empty except for a fireplace that cold and dark.

I sat up gingerly, my head pounding, but snapped to attention as I examined my once-broken arm. It was definitely healed and I flexed it experimentally in awe. Someone had also changed my shirt and pulled off my blood-soaked jeans. I blushed at the thought, remembering I was wearing lacey leopard print bra and underwear. I pulled up the oversized t-shirt I was now wearing and gawked at my side – the wound was completely healed, only a faint pink line in its place.

Tugging my shirt back down, I swung my legs around to the ground and fought the dizziness that threatened to force me to lie back down. "Feeling better?" Sam entered the cabin through a side door I hadn't noticed before. "You scared us, Liv." He kindly handed me a glass of water that I gulped down.

"I'm ok, just a headache," I replied. "Thanks for the water." Sam sat down next to me on the couch and I tucked my legs underneath me. "That waitress was the demon that possessed me a couple of years ago in San Diego."

"You've been possessed too?" Sam asked, shaking his head. His face had turned dark, his eyes troubled. "It's the worst thing in the world." I nodded dismally in agreement.

"I'm sure you already saw it, seeing as someone stripped me down to my skivvies, but me and my dad both got these." I pulled my shirt down in the back, showing the anti-possession symbol I had tattooed on my shoulder blade.

Sam flushed red at my pointed observation about my clothes, but pulled down his shirt to show an identical tattoo on his chest. "Smart thinking on our parts," he remarked. Dean wandered into the cabin, slamming the door shut behind him and tracking mud in on his boots.

"Liv!" he exclaimed, dropping an armful of firewood near the fireplace across from us. "You're awake? How 'ya feeling, tomb raider? That was some quick thinking with the holy water and that kick-flip-whatever thing you did. You were just outnumbered." He flipped a chair around and sat down across from us, leaning on the back of it. "You scared us."

"Sorry," I replied, pulling the blanket higher on me. Sam hadn't been kidding – despite the roaring fire in the hearth, the cabin was freezing. "I hate demons." The boys both chuckled. "Where are we? This cabin is kinda…"

"Nasty?" Dean supplied, and I smirked as Sam laughed again. "I know, it's definitely not the Ritz. A friend owed us a favor, so we took him up on it. This is his hunting cabin."

I nodded, pulling the blanker higher on my chest. "And where's Castiel? I need to thank him for fixing me up." I motioned to my now-healed arm.

"Yeah, he did a bang-up job healing you," Dean remarked, rocking forward on the legs of his chair. "Those were some nasty slices that demon put in you. Anyway, Cas went off on an errand or something. Heavenly business. He'll be back."

"Gotcha," I murmured as a small pang of disappointment shot through me, surprising me_. What did I care if Castiel was here? I had known him less than 24 hours. "_He's very…nice." I knew my cheeks were pink, completely betraying my attraction to the angel.

Dean laughed loudly, kicking his chair up onto two legs again. "Weird, you mean? That's Cas for you. If you had met him a year ago you'd realize that the way he is now is a really big improvement. We try to teach him people skills." He nodded proudly and then got up to dig around in the refrigerator, emerging with a beer.

"I wondered what that was all about. You know, him being just a little…awkward," I mused, taking another sip of water. It felt like heaven against my parched throat.

"Angels aren't what people think they are," Sam said seriously. "They're not fluffy little cherubs that cloud surf all day. They're warriors, and they rarely interact with people. When we met Cas, he had no emotions at all. He's come a long way since then." I listened carefully, everything beginning to fall into place. "He's still so unfamiliar with certain things. Love, family, free will… angels don't have choices, you know. They take orders, and they follow them. Cas is sort of… struggling… with the whole free will thing."

"It seems to me that he's acting a little more human around our new friend here," Dean said teasingly, gesturing at me with his beer bottle. "Cas never shows emotion. He does with us sometimes – because we're awesome – but that's about it. Around you, he just seems more… aware, or something. Trying to make you feel better last night when we were leaving your house – that's something I've never seen him do before."

I blushed, to Dean's obvious enjoyment "Um. Anyway. Have you talked to my dad?" Dean made a face and glanced at Sam, who grimaced. "What?"

"He freaked on us," Sam admitted, patting my shoulder and standing. "We told him about the demon ambush and that was it."

"It wasn't your fault, though!" I protested, setting my water glass down on a rickety end table. "There was no way any of us could have seen that coming."

"We know," Dean said confidently. "But he still yelled. Anyway, he'll be here in a few days so get comfortable, Livvy. We don't have wifi but there's lots of books. And stuff like that. Oh, and I think some Disney movies over in that cabinet." He pointed to a dusty armoire sitting in the corner.

"I think I'm going back to sleep," I said tiredly, and the Winchesters laughed again. "My head feels like someone's in there with a sledgehammer. Wake me up if anything happens." With that, I flopped back on my pillows and drifted off again.

I woke up to a much darker cabin. A quick look around confirmed that it was nighttime, and the fire cast strange shadows all over the rough walls. It was icy cold inside and altogether too quiet for my liking; I felt a pang of alarm and sat up quickly.

"Hello, Olivia." I turned to see Castiel sitting on the edge of the couch, a book in hand. "How are you feeling?" Firelight bounced off of his sharply defined face and made my heart leap around a little in my chest.

The panicky feeling I had encountered upon waking immediately receded. "Much better." I leaned over and put my hand on top of his in a gesture of thanks. "Thank you so much, Cas," I said, using his nickname. "You saved me."

He gave me another tentative smile. "You're welcome," he replied formally. I realized my hand was still on top of his and removed it, sliding back into my spot on the other end of the couch.

"Where are Sam and Dean?" I asked, and then my stomach growled. Loudly. I laughed, but Cas frowned and stood quickly.

"They went off on a case – they have a lead on another seal," he said, crossing over to the stove. "They won't be back for a few days, but I'll stay here with you and make sure you're safe. You're going to need your rest, anyway. I healed you, but it takes a few days to recover fully." He stirred something in a pot that was resting on one of the burners. "They were also supposed to make you eat something. Are you hungry?"

"Starving," I admitted, and kicked the blankets off of me. I stood and immediately regretted it; icy air pierced my skin and I gasped, dropping back down onto the couch into my nest of blankets. "Holy shit, it's _freezing_ in here."

"I do apologize," Castiel said immediately, regret hovering over his handsome face. "Here, eat this." He handed me a steaming bowl of soup. "I'll stoke the fire and find you something warmer to wear." I spooned a mouthful of the most delicious chicken noodle soup I'd ever tasted into my mouth and huddled deeper into my blankets, watching as he carefully added more logs and kindling to the fire. He then disappeared into the bedroom for a few minutes, emerging with my favorite pair of flannel pajama pants and my Boston hoodie.

"Thank you so much," I said gratefully, and stood once more to yank both of them on. Castiel turned away, his cheeks pink, but wrapped a third blanket around me once I had sat down again. His face was so close to mine that I could feel his breath, and butterflies erupted in my stomach. We sat in silence for a few moments, both of us lost in thought, before he spoke again.

"Your father is coming soon," he said, leaning forward to tuck the blanket in around my feet. "You'll be happy to see him."

"I'm really close with my dad," I stated. "Although things are a bit different now." I dropped my gaze to the floor thoughtfully and felt Castiel shift his weight on the couch before speaking.

"What happened to your mother?" he asked bluntly, and I glanced at him. "I apologize. Should I not have asked?"

I shook my head. "No, no, it's fine. She. Um. She was killed four years ago. By a demon. My dad and I were out on a hunt and we came home and… that was it. It was too late." Castiel's eyes were filled with compassion, and it bolstered me into continuing. "Ever since then, I've just had this… thing, I guess you could say, with demons. It's ridiculous, but I freeze up and start feeling panicked."

"That's not ridiculous," Castiel said evenly. "That's a typical human response. Even angels fear demons sometimes." He kept his eyes steadily on mine and my heart raced. "You have nothing to be ashamed of."

"Thanks," I murmured. "I just want to find the demon that did it – that killed my mom. Alastair." Castiel's eyes turned hard at this and I felt myself involuntarily shrink back a little. "Do you know him?"

"Oh, I know of him," he replied coldly. "Alastair is one of the demons that tortured Dean in hell." I shuddered. "We'll just say he's on my list of demons to destroy at once."

"That's good to know," I replied softly. The moment was broken when Cas stood, reaching for my bowl.

"Would you like some more soup?" I shook my head. He refilled my water glass and handed it to me, settling down on the end of the couch again. "Would you like to go sleep in the bedroom?"

I glanced into the room, which was pitch black and no doubt freezing. I shivered involuntarily and pulled the blankets tighter around me. I had no inclination of sleeping in the empty bedroom by myself; I was still shaken by the fiasco in the diner. "Can I sleep out here with you?" The words tumbled out and I blushed a little.

Castiel nodded, his face smoothly blank. "That's perfectly acceptable. I don't sleep, but I'll certainly watch over you." I smiled at this and felt an enormous sense of relief.

"Thanks," I mumbled. "I just don't really want to be alone." Castiel's eyes were full of understanding and I leaned back, sleepiness making my eyes heavy.

"Sleep well," Cas said in his low, melodic voice. I was dimly aware of his stoking the fire again and then pulling the blankets higher over me before I drifted off.


	7. Chapter 7

**Guys! Thank you so much for the reviews. Sorry I disappeared for a while – thanks for still reading! **

The next few weeks passed slowly, but I was content. My father's arrival kept getting pushed back as he was delayed by last minute matters in Fairview, but

I was secretly thrilled to spend time with Castiel. Dean and Sam were in and out constantly, setting off every few days on cases, so Castiel and I spent a fair amount of time together.

We read, content in each other's silence, and I taught him to play a few card games; some nights, we even watched Disney movies together. I often dozed off and woke up embarrassed to find that I had rested my head against his shoulder in my sleep. He, however, seemed rather pleased, although he made no move to put his arm around me.

Honestly, he reminded me of an awkward teenager sometimes and I found it endearing. Instead of getting annoyed with him when he failed to act "human" – like I had already seen Dean do a few times – I was patient with him. He seemed to sense this, and we became more at ease with one another.

More than anything, we talked. I felt like talking to Castiel was easier than anything I had done in a while. It took a little persuasion to get him to come out of his shell, but my persistence paid off. I felt like there was something growing between us – some sort of bond - and found myself waking up in the morning eager to talk to him.

Sam and Dean returned from one of their cases with disheartening news. One look at their faces had dread settling into my stomach. "What's wrong?" I demanded, climbing to my feet from where Cas and I were playing checkers on the floor in front of the fire. "Are you alright?"

Dean took a deep breath and looked at Sam; they seemed to carry on a silent conversation before Sam spoke. "Olivia… it's your dad." He ducked his head, his long hair falling into his eyes.

_Whoosh._ The air seemed to come out of me all at once and I sat down hard on the couch, my hands over my heart. "Tell me," I demanded weakly. I was dimly aware of Castiel moving to the couch as well, sitting next to me as he gazed at Sam.

"He's not coming here." The words spilled out of Sam and his face took on an almost guilty cast. "I'm sorry, Liv. It's not safe. Demons tracked him to your house and he got out fine, but they might still be following him. He's staying at Bobby's for the time being."

Disappointment swallowed me whole. "Why can't I go to Bobby's?" I asked petulantly, fully aware that I sounded like a spoiled child. I folded my arms over my chest and glared at Sam. He looked like he was fighting laughter as he opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off.

"Because no demons know where you are right now," Castiel said patiently. "You're safe here, and there's no sense in moving your location and risking giving it away. You'll stay here." His voice was firm.

I sighed and pulled my feet underneath me. "Did you at least bring pie?" I asked Sam in a small voice, and he and Dean both laughed out loud.

"Blueberry," he replied, and grinned.


	8. Chapter 8

"So, how things going with you and cherub-boy?" Dean asked me cheekily the next morning as we hiked beside the stream that ran alongside the house. I had begged to be allowed out for fresh air, and the boys had finally relented if I promised to take one of them with me. Cas had disappeared to my slight disappointment to take care of a few things, but Dean quickly offered to accompany me.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied haughtily, and he laughed. I tried to stalk off, but slipped on a moss-covered rock and almost fell. "Shit." He laughed again, helping me steady myself. A cardinal flew overhead, a bright flash of red against the clear blue sky. The blue reminded me of a certain someone's eyes, and I blushed.

"You're a terrible liar," Dean remarked. I blushed harder and concentrated on the bubbling sound of the stream and the cool air rushing past my hot face. "You and Cas, huh?"

"Nothing's happened," I replied quickly. "And even if I am starting to have… feelings… for him, it would never work, Dean. He's an angel." I shrugged but the reality of it all hit me like a ton of bricks as I actualized my thoughts.

Dean made the _pssshhh_ noise. "And you're a nephilim. Who cares? I've heard of weirder. Did you know Sam has a little thing going with our friendly neighborhood demon Ruby?" He saw the disgust on my face and backtracked. "She's a good demon… as messed up as that sounds. She helps us out a lot. My point is, it doesn't matter. I saw Cas _smile_ this morning. That's not normal Cas." I smiled in spite of myself, too. "Go for it, Livvypants. You two would make such cute angel babies." He reached over and pinched my cheek. I squealed and swatted him away, but was lost in thought for the remainder of the hike.

Castiel returned the next night as Sam, Dean and I started dinner. I had offered to cook and was grilling hamburgers in a frying pan while Sam heated up two cans of baked beans. Dean was stoking the fire when the door opened and Cas walked in, soaking wet from the rain that was drumming loudly on the cabin's roof.

"Hi," I said happily, waving at him with the spatula. "We're making hamburgers. Are you proud? Dean and Sam fed me while you were gone." He nodded wordlessly and when his eyes met mine, I was taken aback. They were full of anxiety; I could feel it rising off of him like steam. I bit my lip and glanced at Sam and Dean. Neither of them appeared to notice Cas' demeanor and I flipped the burner off under the burgers.

"Sam. Pie." Dean ordered, straightening up by the fireplace. Sam rolled his eyes but pulled on his jacket, darting out into the rain to retrieve the pie they had bought that morning and apparently forgotten in the Impala. Dean stepped out onto the porch, peering up into the sky. He whistled. "Storm's rolling in… we're not going anywhere tonight, that's for sure. I don't know if the power will stick."

Cas had gone into the darkened bedroom and was sitting on the bed, staring at the ground. I glanced once more at Dean, who was still staring into the sky, and slipped into the bedroom. "Cas, are you ok?" I asked softly, approaching him. He was slowly dripping water onto the floor and appeared to be in a daze.

He didn't answer and I slowly say down next to him on the bed. "Cas?" I said again, my voice quiet. His blue eyes drifted over to me.

"I'm losing faith," he said, his voice taut with desperation. "This shouldn't be happening. I'm supposed to follow orders, not question them."

"No one can do that forever," I said in a low voice. Sam and I had talked more at length the day before about angels and their sense of duty, and how much it pained Castiel to become familiar with the concept of free will and choices.

"As an angel, I should," Cas replied dully. "It's my duty. But how can you follow orders when you've never seen who's issuing them? What if I'm not following the right path?"

I slipped my hand over his and he turned to look at me. "Cas, you've been on earth for over a year now. Being exposed to the concept of choice was bound to happen and I understand how it must be confusing. But don't ever doubt that you're on the right path. You're a good person." I squeezed his hand gently and he stared at me.

"Do you truly believe that?" he asked quietly. I heard Sam and Dean clomping back into the cabin, arguing over the pie, and said silent thanks that they were still preoccupied. I put my other hand on the side Castiel's face and his eyes widened. I felt the all-too-familiar warmth that I felt when I touched him and smiled before answering.

"I do. I know it." I bit my lip and removed my hand from his cheek. Standing, I took one of his hands and pulled him to his feet. "Now take off that wet coat because you're going to get angel pneumonia or something, and come watch us eat hamburgers." I strode back out into the main room and Dean waggled his eyebrows at me as he ate macaroni salad out of the container. "DEAN! That's for dinner!"

"I'm hungry!" he protested, but set it down and made a puppy dog face at me. Castiel emerged from the bedroom a few minutes later, clad in dry clothes. He came up next to me as I stood at the stove, methodically toasting hamburger buns.

"Thank you," he said quietly in my ear. I nodded at him with a small smile, loading up plates. The four of us sat down at the round table, the storm beginning to pick up strength outside. Lightning forked across the sky and thunder boomed, rattling the small cabin from end to end. A particularly loud clap made me jump, nearly knocking over my glass of water.

"Is this a normal storm?" Sam asked a bit nervously, addressing Castiel and Dean. "It seems a little intense."

"There was a lot of activity this week, according to my brethren," Castiel reported. "It may be the residuals of all the conflicts." I chewed my lip nervously and dropped my burger on my plate, my appetite gone. Lots of activity meant more of a chance that my dad and Bobby would get involved. My stomach churned and Dean snapped his fingers near my face.

"Liv. You ok? You look like you're going to barf." I swallowed hard, fiddling with my water glass as condensation dripped down the sides.

"Lots of activity means there's more of a chance that my dad and Bobby will get involved," I relayed my thoughts. "It just makes me nervous."

Dean waved me off. "Your dad and Bobby are tough old bastards. You have absolutely nothing to worry about." His eyes met mine and his gaze was reassuring. I nodded. "Besides, we're heading out in the morning to check on them."

"Ok," I said, but anxiety still twisted my stomach. I played with my food, barely participating in conversation, as I tried to shake the feeling off. Sam and Dean took care of dishes and I sat down on the couch with Castiel, pulling my knees to my chest as my mind raced.

"Olivia," Cas said quietly. "Everything will be alright. Should we play Scrabble?" He began to reach for the old wooden board, which Dean had hurled across the room the night before when I informed him that 'gulpy' wasn't a word.

"Only if you're all prepared to get your asses whipped again," I replied, and he chuckled. It was one of the rare times I had seen him laugh, and I felt my worry slowly starting to slip away.


	9. Chapter 9

Sam and Dean left the next morning on a lead for a haunting, leaving Castiel to keep an eye on me. The storm had passed and it smelled refreshingly clean outside; I begged Cas to come on a walk with me. He relented but only after I had eaten breakfast.

"I'm not hungry," I had protested, pushing my eggs around the plate with my fork. I was dying to get out into the fresh autumn air and stretch my legs.

"You didn't eat dinner last night. Eat," he had said firmly, his blue eyes piercing me. "Then we'll go for a walk." I sighed but forced down the eggs and a piece of toast before going to pull my boots on.

"It's so beautiful out," I said almost wistfully as we walked, watching the sunlight dapple off of the gold and red leaves. "Fall is my favorite season. Look at the leaves." I sat down on a dry patch of grass where the sun streamed down, letting it warm my face. Castiel sat down next to me, quietly gazing off into the woods. We sat in a contented silence for a while.

"Have you ever been… in love?" Castiel suddenly asked me, and I jumped a little as his voice startled me out of my thoughts.

I thought before answering. "Once," I replied. "It was a while ago and it didn't work out. He was functionally incapable of being faithful. Of course, I didn't know this until a year in." I laughed dryly.

"How could someone do that to you?" Castiel demanded, his blue eyes troubled. A bird chirped overheard before swooping by us, a flash of blue against the foliage. "You're… lovely."

I flushed pink but grinned. "Thank you. He was an idiot. But I loved him, for what it was worth." I shrugged. "And you?"

Castiel shook his head, gazing at me. "I never knew what that type of love was until I came to earth. Dean told me about it." His eyes were glued to my face. "I think…" he never finished his sentence because something cracked loudly in the underbrush nearby. We were both on our feet in seconds and he had pushed me protectively behind him. We were silent, neither one of us moving, and after a few paralyzing moments Castiel shook his head.

"We should go back to the cabin," he said in a low voice, staring around us alertly. "Something doesn't feel right." He led the way, pulling me by the hand. I had to practically run to keep up with him and was relieved when the cabin came into view; a sense of unease was building around us.

We slipped inside and Castiel carefully replaced the salt line that we had faithfully laid out every day, blocking off all entrances to the cabin. I pulled off my boots peered out the window. "Cas. It's getting dark again." I watched worriedly as the sky darkened with clouds at an abnormally fast rate.

"We're safe here," he replied reassuringly, coming over to stand by me and look out the window. "Don't worry, Olivia."

"Ok," I said in a small voice that I immediately hated. "God, I can't stand being like this." I crossed the tiny room in a huff of frustration, throwing myself on the lumpy couch. "It's pathetic."

"What's pathetic?" Cas asked, following me and sitting down next to my feet. I heard the start of raindrops pinging on the roof, and the wind picked up outside.

"I'm… I'm a bad hunter," I admitted miserably, the tightness in my chest increasing. "I suck. Ever since my mom died, I've just been… afraid. I used to be like Sam and Dean. I wasn't scared of anything. I'd go on hunts with my dad every week. Now I stay home and do research because I just can't handle it." I bit my lip and glanced at him. "It's embarrassing."

"Fear of the supernatural is a reaction common in humans," he replied evenly. "It's nothing to be embarrassed about. Your mother's death affected you severely. You're a well-adjusted, strong young woman, Olivia. Don't discount yourself."

I pondered his words, turning them over in my mind. Hunting had lost its allure for me the day my mother died. I preferred to stay in the comfort of my study, safe behind my books and computer, and hated myself for feeling that way when my father was out risking his life. "I just feel guilty."

"I understand. Because you're father is out on the hunt and you're not, correct?" Cas asked. I nodded. "You shouldn't feel guilty. This life isn't for everyone and I know your father is grateful for all the help you give him. Have faith in yourself. I do." My head jerked up at these words and I stared at him, suddenly having to resist a strong urge to wrap my arms around him. "Now, what's next on our abominable cartoon movie list? I believe you said you wanted me to watch the film with the merpeople." I giggled and shook my head before climbing to my feet to pop _The Little Mermaid_ into the VCR. It was going to be a long day.

The next two days were relatively uneventful. Neither Cas nor I really ventured far from the cabin, still uneasy about the noises in the woods and the odd storms that seemed to crop up more and more often.

Castiel seemed increasingly at ease when he was around me; he even cracked a few jokes, to my surprise. The turning point in his normally rather standoffish behavior happened the second night while I was cooking dinner. I had turned to say something to him and he was standing close behind me, sneaking a peek into the pan where I was simmering chicken.

I had bumped into him, my nose brushing his chin, and blushed; to my surprise, he merely grinned at me and apologized. "Dean says I don't respect personal space," he said with a shrug, and I giggled. What made me happiest was his lack of self-consciousness or awkwardness when we had touched.

Dean and Sam showed up the next night in the middle of another storm. Cas and I were seated on the couch, both reading, when the lights began to flicker and the temperature in the room dropped significantly. I gasped and Cas jumped to his feet, facing the door.

"It's just us," Dean called, opening the door and sticking a hand in to wave. "We've got Ruby with us." I glanced at Castiel, whose face took on a look of disgust as he sat back down next to me. His posture was rigid, and I realized he was ready to lunge.

Dean entered the room dripping water all over the floor and kicked his muddy boots off, shaking his head in annoyance. Sam was right behind him, his long hair sticking to his wet face, and turned to kick salt out of the doorway. As soon as he had broken the line, Ruby stepped into the cabin.

She was tiny – or at least the body she was possessing was. She had long, dark hair and large brown eyes, her complexion perfect. If I hadn't known she was a demon, I would have thought she was pretty. However, when she looked at me, her eyes dilated black and I drew back. Castiel moved a little closer to me on the couch.

"So, this is the chick we're all supposed to be hunting, huh?" She came closer, rudely examining me as if I were some exotic species. "Looks normal to me. You don't look like you'd be much of an asset to either side. Except for the whole half-blood, disgrace to heaven thing you've got going on."

I glared at her, anger welling up in my chest. "Screw you." Dean laughed but Sam cut in.

"Ruby, shut up. Tell Cas what you told us." He nudged her and I studied him – Sam had never struck me as the type to befriend a demon, much less sleep with her. Ruby made a face but pulled out a chair and sat down, stretching her legs out in front of her.

"Two things," she said easily, staring at Cas with obvious distaste in her eyes. "First, the hunt's definitely on for your little nephilim friend." She gestured to me and my stomach flipped over. "Orders are to bring her back alive, but not necessarily unharmed. We all know what that means. Keep an eye on her – Alastair's set dibs on getting his claws into her first." Dean uttered a litany of curse words and hit the wall next to the fridge; Castiel's eyes flashed with fury. I felt faint and sucked air in through my nose, trying to breathe evenly.

"Second. Your boy Uriel isn't exactly who you think. Rumor has it that he's actually working for the flip side – he _wants_ the apocalypse to happen. So you might want to think twice before you take another order from him, no matter where he says he's getting them."

Castiel stood quickly and strode over to the door, slamming it open and disappearing outside into the storm. I dashed over and tried to see where he was going, but he was already gone. "Way to break it easy," I snapped at Ruby, who merely shrugged at me.

"It's not my problem flyboy can't handle it," she said lazily. She was so nonchalant that I wanted to slap her, but knew it wouldn't do much good.

"Nothing's ever your problem," Dean said angrily, shooting daggers at her. "You've said your piece. You can leave." He looked formidable as he loomed over her, his face dark.

"I'm not going out there in this," she retorted. "This storm look normal to you? Because it's not. I'm staying here until it blows over. Dibs on the bed… Sam, you want to join me?" She gave him a saucy look and he blushed redder than a tomato.

"No way," Dean said, shaking his head. "No freaky demon sexcapades. You want to do that, you go find a motel. Olivia and I don't want our ears burned off, thank you very much." He made a face of repulsion and I fought laughter. "You don't sleep anyway, Ruby. So get comfy in that chair."


End file.
